Leaving Me Behind
by chibisansempei
Summary: Harry's left to his abusive relatives.His high school teachers notice his art talent and get him into a school only the richestor most talented are ever admitted to.He's not sure how he's going to make it with an angry uncle who doesn't kno*Rest inside AU
1. Story Information

Just to make it easier and a little better. I'm going to put all this junk here first and not put it in the individual chapters.

This goes for all chapters. I WILL update this page when the time comes it is needed. (I'm always changing things so you never know.)

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything. It belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbery Books, et cetera. This is a good thing. Trust me. -nods-

_**Story:**_ Leaving Me Behind

_**Pairings:**_  
- Eventually Harry/Draco  
- Others to come.

_**Warnings:**_  
- Slash/Yaoi/boyXboy lovin'  
- Many kinds of abuse.  
- After awhile: drugs, prostitution, cutting, gangs and the like, et cetera.  
- Later chapters: eating disorders,- AU Non-magic.

_**Summery:**_ Harry is left to be raised by his abusive relitives is a very rundown part of town where you're left to the worst of things inorder to make it just one more day. Even friends sometimes turn their backs on you. His hghschool teachers, ones who seem to actually care for the students, notice his art talent and get him into a school only the richestor most talented are ever admitted to. With a full scolorship and a very angry uncle who doesn't know he's going, Harry's afraid he won't last long enough to get out of the way of life he's always known and lothed.

_***-^.^-***_

_***+*+*** First chapter starts after this. ***+*+***_


	2. Taking Action

**Chapter Title:**  
_**Taking Action**_

_***-^.^-***_

A teacher stood at the front of a cramped class room, giving examples of math problems for her third grade class to write down and solve on ther own. After giving the instructions to the kids before her, Mrs. Turpin, the seventy something teacher, sat behind her makeshift desk and watched her students like a hawk. A low murmer fell over the class as they worked together to finish their work before time was up.

Unlike most teachers, Mrs. Turpin actually made you do the work. Then again, she was one of the few that had actually gotten a degree to teach. The rest were just hired in because the school, if you could call it that, couldn't afford to pay the higher price and just stuck with drop outs or anyone who the people running the school deem fitting enough. I say 'people' because they were all sure there was no actual principal or superintendent or any of that. But in this district, they were lucky to even have a building to use so no one really said anything about the dealings of the 'school'.

About twenty minutes after Mrs. Turpin had given the assignment, she called the class to attention and passed out a sheet of homework they were to do for that night and hand back in the coming Monday. They were then dismissed.

"Harry, dear, will you please come over here for a second?" A little boy with black hair and green eyes, looked up at his teacher and nodded. He walked over with a dull orange folder in his hands that was holding his uncrincled homework.

"Yes, Mrs. Turpin?" he asked in a small voice, looking at the floor. Thee teacher gently pushed him to a desk at the front and kneeled in next to him.

"Harry, I wanted to talk to you about the drawings you do during art hour." He looked as if his hand were caught in a cookie jar. "It's nothing to worry about, son. I was just gong to tell you that I liked them. They're really good. You must have so much hidden talent." the elderly teacher gave him a soft smile. "Harry, I was wonderng if you could do me a favor?" At his hesitant nod she continued. "Would you be willing to take these,-" She drew a small, palm sized scetch pad and box of crayons out of her apron pocket. "-off my hands? You see, they're always getting in the way but I don't want to give them to the class because I know they wouldn't take care of them, but I'm sure you will." She paused but he didn't answer. "I'll tell you what. You hold on to these for me and you can draw whatever you want to in them, okay? Doesn't matter what it is. Will you please do this for me Harry?" After a few seconds he fnally nodded, a small smile playing on his own lips. "Thank you, Harry. You best be off now. Don't want to keep you from the day." She stood back up and watched the boy shuffle away, almost forgetting the pad and crayons.

Mrs. Turpin turned around and gather her few belonging, ready to leave for the day.

"Now, why would you do a thing like that?" came a smooth draw of a voice from the door way. The teacher spun on her heal, but only gave a huff of annoyance when she saw just who it was.

"I don't know what you're talking about. But if you'll excuse me, I have places to go." She walked to the back of the classroom, toward the door, but the man just stood there, not planning on letting her leave until he understood her motives.

"You do too know what I'm talking about Turpin. You're incouraging him, aren't you? He'll never get anywhere from a slum like this and you know it. The question is... why did you give him the notebook and colored crayons like you did? An interestng way to do so, I must say."

"If you must know, I asked him to do it as a favor because he seems to have trouble with accepting help from others, even you should have seen that." She glared at him before pushing him to the side and going through the door, "Now, I _really_ must go. Good day." **(Before you ask, this weird guy is just some teacher. Not anyone of importance... I think... might change.)**

_***-^.^-***_

_**To Be Continued...**_

_***-^.^-* *-^.^-***_

**Chibi:** There you go. Another story. Not that I need to add more stores that'll be murder to remember to update.  
**PlotBunnie:** No kidding.  
**Chibi:** ... You're not very helpful you know... -_-  
**PlotBunnie**: ... Yup! ^.^

**Ja!**  
-Chibi

_**(1-5-10) **_


	3. My Predicament

**Chapter Title:**  
**_My Predicament _**

_***-^.^-***_

Harry Potter was in the bathroom just off to the left of the front door in his aunt and uncles small, trashed up appartment. He had hardly had enough time to hide his homework and new scetchpad and crayons under the mat he called a bed before his uncle, drunk as usual, had pulled him out of his closet of a room and beaten the boy for no apparent reason.

He was now trying to wash the blood from an open cut on his upper left arm that wouldn't stop gushing. After about ten minutes it finially slowed down enough that he could wrap an already blood stained cloth around his arm and stumble, drowsly, to his bed before he fainted from blood loss.

A couple hours later his aunt screamed from front room that dinner had better be done before she got back 'or else'. Harry bolted up when the front door slamed closed but fell back down instantly as his head swam and blobs of light dancing in front of his eyes. After a minute or so he stood back up slowly but still had to hold onto the wall before he had enough streignth to actually open the door and walk into the kitchen/frontroom and prepare a meal that he probably wouldn't partake in.

Pulling his dark black hair from his eyes and rolling up his too long sleeves, the eight year old boy began chopping up vegtables for the stir fry. His uncle stumbled out of his room, probably ready to beat his nephew once again, but turned back around when he noticed he was cooking HIS dinner. Not wantng blood in his food, he left the boy alone... for now.

Right as young Harry was placing tableware on the table, in the correct places, Patunia Dursely, his only living blood relative, walked through the door, scowling at him. The raven haired boy ducked his head and scuried back to the kitchen and picked up a heaping plate to sit on one of the placemats.

Upset that the boy had done as he was told to do, Patunia grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and pushed him into the closet... or his room anyway, and locked the door. She then went to the kitchen and picked up the two remaining plates and yelled out that dinner was ready in a sickly sweet tone. Just as he had guessed, Harry got no dnner and was only let out to do the dishes and go to the bathroom before the door was shut once more but not locked.

After he was sure the other three, his aunt uncle and cousin, were all asleep, he snuck out to the bathroom and rewashed his wound. Thankful that it had completely stopped bleeding. He hung the cloth to dry after washing it and grabbed his homework to work on in front of the couch. Once everything was done he put it away and grabed the cloth from the bathroom to hang it again in his room for tomorrow. All the while careful not to upset the overly creeky floor.

_***-^.^-***_

_**To Be Continued...**_

_***-^.^-* *-^.^-***_

**Chibi:** I Suppose I can give you another chapter. Maybe it'll help convince you to review. I have a few more ready to post. The more reviews I get the faster I post a new chapter.  
**PlotBunnie:** I think there's like three more, right.  
**Chibi:** I believe so.  
**PlotBunnie**: Well, there you go. Enough to not worry about for a while so review please! ^.^

**Ja!**  
-Chibi

_**(1-5-10) **_


	4. Always Out Of Place

**Chapter Title:**  
**_Always Out Of Place_**

_***-^.^-***_

The next day Harry woke before the Dursleys to make their breakfast and, as if on queue, his rather large cousin, Dudley, came stumbling from his room. When he sat with a huff in his usual seat the worn chair gave a creak of complaint. Harry sat a large plate of eggs, sausage, bacon and pancakes down next to a mug of steaming tea. Dudley laughed as he tripped his scrawny excuse of a cousin when he made for the kitchen once again. Leaving the boy to fall on his face. But he didn't complain. It wasn't his place to complain about such things.

He simply got back up, washed his now dirty hands and placed another mug on the table where his uncle, who was now tromping down the hall, could get it. Once again a chair gave a loud groan of protest at the unwanted weight. As the man took the first sip of life giving liquid that was black coffee, a plate was set in front of him. He ignored the one who place it there in favor of devouring the meal.

A woman with a horse like face was the next to sit down. After giving the boy a hard glare she snapped at him.

"This place is a mess, boy. Clean it up now. After that you may have a bit of toast then it's off to school with you. Don't leave anything dirty." The usual 'or else' was left out. It got kind of tiring to say after a while. Besides the shy boy already knew what 'or else' was. It was always the same.

"Yes, Aunt Parunia." He left the small dining room table and made his way to the front room part of the house and began to clean up everythng Dudley had dirtied after said boy came beck the night before.

Once the three had finished their breakfast, Harry took a break from the front room that he had been sweeping and started washing the dishes. It was the same thing every weekday. Sometimes it differed but not too often. His uncle was, thankfully, too hung over to even raise his hand to his unwanted nephew, so it was a relatively pain free morning.

Until his oaf of a cousin punched his arm, agitating the still throbbing wound he'd gotten from some busted beer bottle last night. Still wasn't to bad, though. Harry seemed to have built somewhat of an immunity to the lesser pain. Once he was sure the two rooms were clean, Harry quickly popped a piece of bread into the toaster and headed to his room to change shirts. His pants were clean enough to wear again. After buttering the now toast Harry grabbed his folder with the still unwrinkled sheet of homework tucked neatly inside.

On his way west, to the lower districts of town, Harry hummed a song he had heard on a radio somewhere. He was sure it was called 'Yeah Toast'. The raven haired boy couldn't help but to laugh at it.

Once he had finished his single piece toast 'Hehe toast' he opened his folder to do some last minute checks on his homework. Sure it wasn't due for a few days but he always turned his work in as soon as possible. Made it harder for Vernon, his uncle, to confiscate it. It also insured that it stayed flat and not folded or wrinkled like the other kids' papers were. He had pride in that where he was not allow any anywhere else.

Mrs. Turpin of course accepted the paper with a smile and asked the class if anyone else wanted to turn theirs in as well. Only one other person did. (No, not Hermione)

"Alright class, since it's Friday and I know you're all excited to get out of here, let's do something easy. Then we'll get to the actually work for the day." She smiled at the happy faces she saw. They might not like coming here but they all like art hour. And if you were extra good, she's even let you sleep. (... I wasn't going to make it art hour but lets go with that. ^.^)

With about ten minutes left to the hour a drowsy Harry Potter set a light aqua colored pencil down on his desk. It was then snatched by some other kid who started scribbling random lines on his own paper. Said paper had many holes in it where his friends had stabbed it in fun. The green eyed raven boy silently pulled a regular pencil out of his sleeve and retraced the lines that made up a bottle nose dolphin then a bright pink and purple jelly fish.

The boy came back with Harry's color pencil and laid it on the desk very carefully before running away again as if his life depended on it. But that was okay with Harry, he liked to stick by himself. He liked his lonely little corner in the class room and didn't even mind that his desk was only a half busted cardboard box.

"Alright class, please hang your drawings up on the back board and get back to your own desks." Harry was the last to place his on the board, prefering to wait for the pushy crowd to disipate. As usual, all twenty-seven eight year olds watched as he pulled a string away from the wall and slid his art work behind it, right next to the others he's done through out the year. No one ever dared use 'Harry's Corner'. They knew he was good and didn't want their work to be dimmed next to his. Even at eight they were jealous of what he did. Stupid teacher pet

_***-^.^-***_

_**To Be Continued...**_

_***-^.^-* *-^.^-***_

**Chibi:** Thought it was as good a time as any to post up the next chapter.  
**PlotBunnie:** Maybe you should have waited a little longer.  
**Chibi:** I Donno. BUT! It's longer then the others. ^.^  
**PlotBunnie**: Well, that's always a plus. You're doing better... I didn't just say that. -shifty eyes-

**Ja!**  
-Chibi

_**(7-6-10) **_


	5. Any Way You Want It

**Chapter Title:**  
**_Any Way You Want It_**

_***-^.^-***_

Once again, Harry found himself carefully walking back to his uncles apartment. He was walking through one of the lowest districts the city had to offer. His uncle, not wanting to dish any money out for the boys education, sent him to Leddley's Elementry School while Dudley was sent to a much better school that had cost more than it was really worth. Hence the reason they lived in such a run down apartment.

Leddley's wasn't just an elementry though. It held most of the middle schoolers too. It held the sixth and half the seventh graders while Dodgers Tutten, the highschool, held the rest of seventh grade and up. They had more room then the elmementry though, seeing as most of the kids that were supposed to go there either dropped out or constantly skipped. But just like in Leddley's, there were very few teachers with degrees and most, teachers and students a like, actually had a record. Not the good kind either. At least they had better funding though.

About half a block away from Harry a gun sounded, causing the boy to hide behind some rusted trash cans down the nearest ally way. While the eight year old wished it wasn't such a long walk from the Dursleys apartment to the school, he was glad he didn't have to live anywhere around here. Too much trouble and the like. He wasn't exactly ignorant to what most of the dealings were either. His district, the Eighteenth, was quite the same but not as bad. Not as dangerous. The Twenty-fifth was second only to the twenty-eigth. Twenty-six and -seven were pretty much empty in fear of getting to colse.

It took nearly twenty minutes for the shots and yelling to dim down and another ten or more for the raven haired boy to deem it safe enough to leave his cocoon of rotting trash. Harry made it back to the appartment before Patunia got back from her work at the dance studio where she 'taught' ballet to the younger kids just starting out. It was on Friday from noon to three in the afternoon and Mondays through Thursdays from four to six thirty.

At first she just ignored her nephew who was standing in the corner waitng for some chore or other that she would ineventably find for him to do. He stared at his too big shoes the whole time.

"Boy!" She yelled at him. "Stop being annoying and so damn useless and do something!" She scowled at him. He looked around for something to do. Having done everything this morning, he headed toward the bathroom to scrub it all down again, it _had_ been a few days so he figured he might as well. He heard the florboards down the hall creaking. I must be his cousin. Not that it creaked because of the weigth, it creaked for even the squat rotwieler down the hall, but his cousin was usually the only one to be about it the halls this time of day. His cousin would surely suffice at a chore, saying the boy was messy was an understatement. Though, Harry was sure the boy did it _just_ to make Harry clean it all up again.

*-^.^-*

Once again, Harry was forced to make dinner. Tonight was different though. His uncle and cousin hadn't laid a hand on him all afternoon. Finally, he found out why. Vernon was having a work associate over. Probably hoping for a raise when the man saw how one of his 'best' workers was living pretty low. Harry had to make sure not to burn the steak, potatoes and such while re-cleaning the whole house, including Dudley's room. A shudder escaped him when he walked into said room.

In his haste, the ebony haired boy managed to under cook the potatoes and burn the top layer of the meringue on the pie and the the filling it self hadn't set right. It all had to be done over again. Everything _had_ to be perfect. The boy was certainly not going to hear the end of his botched food for a while.

He had just taken the new pie out of the oven when there came a knock at the door.

"Just a moment, please." Harry called out. He ran to the closet and changed his holy shirt to one of the nicer ones he was only allowed to wear on these occasions. He then answered the door with a smile. "Please come in. Uncle Vernon will be here in a second." Politeness, in these situations, was pounded into him as far back as he remembered.

The man simply gave Harry a look and walked past him. Vernon was sure going to have a hard time convincing this man of anything, that's for sure.

"Ah! Mr. Dooley, how nice of you to come tonight." Vernon Dursley exclaimed as he trudged through the house and shook the thinner man's hand.

_***-^.^-***_

_**To Be Continued...**_

_***-^.^-* *-^.^-***_

**Chibi:** Herezie goz! ^.^  
**PlotBunnie:** Mmm...  
**Chibi:** I don't even want to hear anything from you unless it's the story... for now...  
**PlotBunnie**: -Mumbles- Whatever... -_-

**Ja!**  
-Chibi

_**(7-15-10) **_


	6. If It Were

**Chapter Title:**  
**_If It Were_**

_***-^.^-***_

There was no sleep that night for eight year old Harry. Nor for the next night. It was only half way during gym day some time later that he, literally, fell over half asleep. He was excused to the nurse to take care of his bloody nose. The nurse, deciding she wasn't paid enough for it all, just told him to lay on his back with a cloth to catch anything that would fall. He fell unconscious at the blood loss that followed. It took nearly being pushed off the bed to wake him up in time to go home. He sluggishly walked to his class room to see if he had homework and left before his teacher could tell him he didn't look to well.

By the age of ten things were hardly any better. Most nights were dinnerless. The Dursleys were even more concerned about their son, but he was pretty sick so it was understandable. School was still friendless. The teachers got worse. Chores piled up even more. Random angry nights of pain became more frequent as the bills, too, piled up. The only thing that was good about the day was the walk to and from school. None of his family knew how far the school was so he took extra long walking. That, as well, wasn't the best of things.

He understood better now what was going on. Some of it was still new but what he had come to learn both scared him and gave him the feeling of pity. The probably once beautiful women were shivering in the freshly fallen snow doing stuff most of them didn't want to do just so they could survive. Men laying in busted up garbage cans spazing because of something bad in their blood.

About a week after winter vacation, most of the snow being gone because of the smog looming over them, the kids were allowed out on what was probably supposed to be a play ground. There was only a nearly broken off basket ball hoop that most couldn't even reach, two slides, a third one that was off limits, and a long row of swings that was connected to what most of the kids called gym bars all on top of a surprisingly flat and barely cracked black top.

Some seventh grade bully thought it would be funny to wrap one of the fourth grade swings around the top bar. Harry, little helper that he was though that it would be a great idea to fetch the swing for the crying boy who it was taken from.

Now, Harry, spending all his time on the ground found great pleasure in being in high places and was there for... only slightly scared as he scaled one gym bar at a time, rising in high as he went. By the time he'd made it to the top he was a good eight... nine feet off the ground. And smiling.

As luck would have it, the swing he was trying to reach was six over.

Harry easily swung around on the bar so he was holding on with only his hands and his legs were curled around it. He crawled his was slowly toward the wound up swing. There were about ten people watching and this caught the attention of a few others who were near by. But the time he finally reached the desired swing there was at least twenty or more kids watching.

As Harry pulled himself back up he nearly fell but was able to catch himself just fine. The crowd gasped though and one of the teachers saw him and slowly made his was over. By the time he reached the swing set with two other teachers Harry was sitting on the bar and pulling the swing back up one last time to have it completely down where it was supposed to be.

"Harry Potter, get off there right this minute." Mr. Jennings yelled.

"No, wait, he might hurt himself. We have to... Some one will have to catch him. John your strongest you do it."

"Alright Potter. Come on. I'll... catch you." John Mender, seventh grade teacher ground out. He hated kids. Really hated them. Harry, of course, didn't listen to the teachers. He, instead, crawled back over to the other side the same way he had crawled to the swing and slid down the pole. Ms. Gray looked like she was about to faint by the time he reached the ground.

"Can't you follow simple directions, Potter?" Mr. Mender looked more annoyed than he usually did. "Everybody back to class. Recess is being cut short today." Definitely more annoyed than usual. "Potter, you stay."

_***-^.^-***_

_**To Be Continued...**_

_***-^.^-* *-^.^-***_

**Chibi:** So, yeah. Here's my excuse... I _HAD_ this and like one and a half other chapters (Along with a few chapters of other stories) written out on my computer. ... But my computer is stupid and my mom tried to fix it... it decided to be a butt head and delete EVERYTHING on it... Not even right. I even had another story almost completely done... Gone... ." So I had to try and remember what I wrote... which is hard on a good day...  
**PlotBunnie:** ...  
**Chibi:** I don't want to hear from you right now, PlotBunnie. Umm, so, yeah. Here you go. Not sure when the next one will be out. ... I don;t know what it;s going to be about really. I have an idea about apart of it but I want to make it a long chapter... ish...  
Oh and Ummm to answer _**Randy13**_ (Because I can't remember if I already did or not) I think he'll go in about ninth or tenth grade... ish... Eleventh at latest. I have a lot of work to do on him first. -nods-

**Ja!**  
-Chibi

_**(12-09-10) **_


	7. In Ballet It Comes Crashing

**Chapter Title:**  
**_In Ballet It Comes Crashing_**

_***-^.^-***_

Through out Petunia's time teaching ballet she used Harry as a practice every once in a while to help herself learn to teach better. Not that Harry was the best way but he would do.

This being the way it was though, Harry started to find that he rather like to dance, even if it was rather badly and so, you can see why Vernon would be rather upset when he got home early one day in spring.

Harry was practicing what his aunt had told him he would need to know now that he was to be joining her in classes, as reluctant as she was to allow this. She was trying to convince parents and perspective students that ballet was not only for girls but also for boys.

"What are you doing, boy?" Vernon Dursley walked through his front door at about five o'clock Saturday afternoon to find his unwelcome house guest shirtless and dancing around the living room on his the front of his feet (Because he hasn't learned to be in his toes yet). This... was NOT normal.

"Umm, I'm just practicing like Aunt Petunia wanted me to, sir. I'm to be joining her classes now." Harry looked at his feet, in submission.

"You are, ay? Mmm..." Vernon waddled off to his room. After about five minutes Harry went back to dancing, sure that Vernon wasn't likely to come back out for a while, probably not until dinner. A little over an hour later, Petunia came in and gave the boy a dirty look. He was sitting on the floor, slightly sweaty.

"Clean yourself up and fix some dinner. I got groceries earlier today so there should be plenty. Dudykins needs his nutrients so make sure you get it right." She then dropped her bag off in the laundry room and walked to Dudley's room to see if he was in need of anything.

*-^.^-*

It was Harry's third Friday at Ballet class when he was introduced to Mrs. Weasley. They were to be paired up together. As Petunia pushed Harry toward her she whispered

"This woman has a number of sons. Try talking her into having at least one of two of them join the class."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

For the rest of ballet class Harry talked to the woman, helped her a bit, truth was... She wasn't exactly built for ballet. Apparently she was actually only here because a friend, it might have been a cousin, goodness knows she had a big family, gave her a gift certificate for three free lessons. She said after those lessons even if she wanted to stay she wouldn't be able to come back. Her family was already living paycheck to paycheck as it was.

Afterwards Mrs. Weasley, though she asked him to call her Molly, brought one of her oldest sons over to meet him. Bill was his name. Quite the dreamer he was, too. Mrs. Weasley smacked him up side the head for talking about something or another that Harry had a hard time following.

"Don't be filling the poor boys head with nonsense like that, William."

"It's fine Mrs. Weasley." Molly smiled at him.

"You're such a sweetie." She patted Harry's face and said good bye. Bill waved with a friendly smile.

"So? What did she say, boy?"

"Umm… She said she probably would be able to. They don't have a lot of money you see."

"Is that so?" Petunia got a look that pretty much spelled bad news later.

"Y-Yes, Aunt Petunia. Her husband co runs a shop with a friend named Perkins. They sell odd ends stuff, she said. Don't get much business around here." Petunia just gave him another dirty look and walked away.

*-^.^-*

The next Friday Harry was in Aunt Petunia's class again, stretching, when Molly Weasley came over and started to chat him up. All about her boys, how well her older sons were dong in school, a set of twins always causing trouble but she still loved them and even hinted once or twice that he should meet her only daughter. "I'm sure you two would become fast friends. You're such a handsome boy." Harry didn't quite agree on the last part. He mostly just nodded and smiled, he found her quite amusing at times, if not just a little scary.

Half way through Harry's fifth Friday, there was a phone call for Mrs. Weasley that took her out of class early. Harry, though a little relieved to finally give his poor ears a rest, was a little worried. When the woman came back she was mumbling something about her twins and fire. Having heard quite a bit about the twins, Harry found himself only a little surprised.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't able to come back after that, having used up all three already paid classes, but no one really minded. Even Harry soon pretty much forgot about her because about a month later, things took a turn for the worse.

*-^.^-*

Finally, Harry's seventh year of schooling came around. Thankfully he was one of the ones chosen to enter the high school. With permission from the very distracted Patunia, Harry was allowed to stay Wednesdays after school to help a few teachers doing whatever needed to be done. This little reprieve was probably the only reason he wasn't completely insane.

Harry continued to draw, got better at it. Kids still hated him for his talent so he took to hiding it from not only his family but everyone else as well. There were so few who knew in the high school that it was hardly to never mentioned.

_***-^.^-***_

_**To Be Continued...**_

_***-^.^-* *-^.^-***_

**Chibi:** Soo... Yeah. Finally in high school... Ish... XD Not long until everything starts gettin' along. Still haven't decided when I was gonna transfer him. o.O And to Sifinerd92... The chapters should be getting longer after this. I have quite a few details to put into them now. Previous chapters were just to give you the basic ideas... not that I did a very good good job at that. XD  
**PlotBunnie:** ... You're rambling...  
**Chibi:** I- Yeah, oh well. I have 37 story alerts... I'm so nervous! O.O I hope I don't disappoint any of you. T.T Until next time. ^.^ (Hopefully no more than a week... ish...)

**Ja!**  
-Chibi

_**(12-22-10)**_


	8. Tuesdays? Yes

_**Chapter Title:**_

_**Tuesdays? ... Yes.**_

_*-^.^-*_

"Next Paragraph, please, Miss Johnson." The teacher said lazily, probably not even realizing the last paragraph wasn't finished yet… Or that there was no Miss Johnson in the class. One of the boys across the room started reading from his comic book instead. The class laughed.

In the back of the classroom a thirteen year old girl with black hair and goofy glasses was poking the boy next to her with a pencil.

Every time he looked at her she just looked at her nails and pretended nothing had happened. He sworn in his head that if she did it one more time… she was going to end up on the floor. He was watching the shadow she made. The hand came up.

Right as he was about to turn around… She grabbed a bunch of his dirty blonde hair and yanked it out.

As he screamed she ran out the door and down the hall laughing like a lunatic all the way.

The teacher didn't notice a thing. His best friend had to help him to the nurse to patch his bleeding head.

*-^.^-*

Harry Potter, orphaned thirteen year old boy, was mowed over in the high school hall way.

Some crazy chick ran him down out of nowhere.

First thing he noticed?

Bloody hair on his face.

Did he scream? Only a little. She quickly got up again and was running out the school door. No one knew if she was caught… Probably not.

Tuesdays at this school just didn't make any sense. Thankfully it rarely ever got that weird.

***-^.^-***

**To Be Continued…**

***-^.^-***

**Chibi**: O-  
**PlotBunnie:** What the hell did that have to do with anything?  
**Chibi**: Absolutely nothing. XD I got bored just now and that's what I have. XD Deal with it. XD

**_Ja_**  
**_-Chibi_**

**_(8-3-11) _**


End file.
